Wake Me, When Life's Over
by alondrabermudez
Summary: Three's Company AU. A wealthy tycoon invites a group of friends to his mansion for a fancy dinner party. Strangers to each other - but not to the host - the seven guests, along with the butler, house maid, and wife of the tycoon, find themselves in a dangerous predicament when someone is murdered in the mansion.
1. Prologue

"Wake Me, When Life's Over."

Three's Company AU.

A wealthy tycoon invites a group of friends to his mansion for a fancy dinner party. Strangers to each other - but not to the host - the seven guests, along with the butler, house maid, and wife of the tycoon, find themselves in a dangerous predicament when someone is murdered in the mansion. The night turns from bad to worse when the killer is unknown, and there is no way out. Follow these wacky guests, as they race to unmask the murderer, find the missing host, find each others passion, and make it through the night - alive.

Inspired by the movie _Clue._

Had this brilliant idea a while ago. Decided to try it out. Enjoy! Reviews would be awesome :)

...

Prologue.

_**1984, Santa Monica, California.**_

_Dear Sir or Madame, _

_In honor of Sir Phillip Dawson the third, you are cordially invited for cocktails and a gourmet feast, especially prepared delicately, on Saturday, the twenty-ninth of August at seven p.m._

_Because of your astounding impression you have made on Sir Dawson, you, along with a number of other guests, will enjoy the night with fine dining, mingling, and a small auction for fundraising. _

_Please consider accepting this invitation; it is in your best interest to attend. _

_Hope to see you there. _

_Best regards, _

_Mr. Ralph Furley. _

_P.s.,_

_Address and directions are included in this invitational letter. _

...

Chrissy Snow smiled, as she tossed the invitation on the coffee table.

She stood from the couch, wandering the spacious living room, waiting for her husband to return from the office.

The moment he crossed the threshold of the victorian home, she leaped into his arms.

"So glad you're home, sweetheart!" Chrissy cheered excitedly.

He spun her around, as she squealed in delight. He set her down, and continued to kiss passionately on the couch. After a while, he peered at the coffee table, and noticed the elegant letter sitting on top of a stack of chic magazines. He reached for the letter.

"What's this, honey?" He asked.

Chrissy glanced at the letter. "Oh, I almost forgot! Peter, we've been invited to a dinner party!"

Peter narrowed his eyes, still staring at the invitation. "Oh, by whom?"

Chrissy thought for a short time, then, her eyes filled with gleam.

"Do you remember a..." She plucked the letter out of Peters hands, "A... Phillip Dawson?"

Peter leaned back on the couch, staring thoughtfully at the plain beige wall. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers.

"That's right! Dawson! Sure, I remember him. We met him a few weeks ago at the fundraising event. The one for the children's center?"

Chrissy furred her brows, and tapped her chin. She, also, snapped her fingers in triumph.

"Of course! That was a swell event. Yeah, now I remember. He was nice. I think I also remember his wife," Chrissy smiled at the thought of Phillip, and his lovely wife.

Peter heaved a heavy sigh.

"What's the matter, love?" Chrissy questioned in a concern tone.

"I'm afraid we can't make the party, Chrissy," Peter gave an apologetic look, and patted her knee softly. "I have a business trip to attend in New York. Sorry, Chrissy."

Chrissy nodded her understanding, carefully concealing her disappointment. A thought, however, flashed inside of her mind.

"No, Peter, that's okay! I can go!" Chrissy brightened.

"Are you sure, honey? There will probably be guests there that you aren't familiar with." Peter inquired solemnly.

"Of course I'm sure, Peter. It'll be fun. I'll be happy to go." Chrissy shrugged.

"Okay, sweetie, if you really want to,"

She leaned over to peck Peter softly on the lips. "Yes, I very much want to. It'll be fun."

...

"Helen! Helen, is breakfast finished? I'm starving for my meal!" Stanley Roper complained to his wife, Helen Roper.

"That's the only thing you're ever starving for around here," Mrs. Roper quipped.

Mr. Roper rolled his dark eyes, and sat down on the stylish sofa. He glanced at his wife, who was perched on the windowsill, reading a letter.

"What's that, Helen?" Mr. Roper asked, wanting to know.

"Stanley, we've been invited to a fancy dinner party," Mrs. Roper answered, walking over to the sofa, letter in hand. "Somehow, you've impressed somebody."

Mr. Roper snatched the letter out of her hand, and read it to himself. "Oh, Helen, this is some trick to get money out of me. Well, you know what? It's not going to work!" Mr. Roper got up to toss the letter in the waste basket.

"Stanley! Please, we never get invited to go anywhere, why ruin this for us to have some kind of fun?" Mrs. Roper pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because I say so. Got it?" Mr. Roper pointed a finger at his wife. "And don't you dare try and convince me otherwise. I get enough of that when you try and convince me to put up shelves."

Mrs. Roper stares at her husband with irritated eyes. She tries a final time to convince him.

"Stanley, if we don't go to this dinner party on Saturday, I _will_ invite my mother over instead. She hasn't seen us in two years, Stanley." Mrs. Roper threatened in a sing-song voice.

Mr. Roper stared at his wife with his mouth agape. "Where was this party, again?" He darted to retrieve the invitation from the waste basket.

...

"Larry, I don't wanna go to this pointless dinner party," Susan Dallas remarked, to her husband. "And you can't make me."

Larry followed her into their bedroom. "Honey, what is the problem? It's for one night. And free food!"

Susan turned toward Larry, voice full of venom. "Listen here, Larry. I've got work to do on Saturday, you know perfectly well. I don't have time for this 'gourmet feast prepared delicately'." She snarled, quoting the invitation.

"Fine, Susan. Then I'll go on my own." Larry declared. He turned, and started out of the bedroom.

Upon entering the kitchen, Larry marched up to Felipe, their limo driver.

"Felipe, take note of this address. You'll be taking me there on Saturday." Ordered Larry.

"Yes, jefe. Whatever you say." Said Felipe, nodding his head, and looking over the letter.

...

The sound of the doorbell chiming brought Terri Alden out her reverie.

"Coming!" She hollered, walking to the door in a brisk pace.

When Terri opened the door, she was met with a handsome smile.

"Here's your mail, Terri."

"Thank you, Marshall," Terri thanked him sweetly. "Wow, a lot of mail."

"Someones popular," Marshall winked. "How long at the hospital?"

"Nine hours. And going back tonight for three more." Terri said with a tired smile.

"Gosh, Terri. I don't think they pay you enough. You've certainly earned the right to be called a successful doctor." The honesty in Marshall's words brought a sudden warmth to Terri's heart. She cocked her head, flashing him a brighter smile than before.

"You're too sweet. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

Marshall reluctantly breathed his goodbye, and left her doorstep, which now stood empty. Exhaling a deep sigh, Terri closed the door, and leaned on the doorframe, shuffling through her mail. The stand-out color of an envelope caught her attention, and noticed that the only thing written on the envelope was her name.

Strolling over to her kitchen, she opened a drawer, and picked out a small butter knife. Running the knife along the edge of the envelope, she slid the invitation out of it, while another piece of paper accidentally flutters onto the floor.

Bending over to retrieve the fallen piece, Terri skims through the invitation, and her face softens.

"Dinner party? Cool." She murmurs to herself.

Re-reading the letter, her eyes land on the printed date of the approaching social function. Mentally going over her work schedule, she finally declares that she is indeed free on Saturday.

"Now, to journey for a dress."

...

Eyeing the invitational letter gave Jack Tripper something to do, while he laid tediously on his couch in his large, silent office. The only sound, was the sound of his soft breathing, and the sound of the ticking of the clock that was mounted on the white, tasteless wall.

After a while, Jack sat up, and tapped his shoe on the carpeted floor.

_What is even my job?_ Jack thought.

Looking around his office, Jack rested his eyes on a framed picture of him and his father. A smile found its way on his face, and as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared upon noticing the stack of paper work on his desk.

_Seriously, why am I here?_

However, Jack knew. His father owned this company. His grandfather started it, and his father took it over. Now that Father Tripper was growing older, it was up to Jack to take it under his wing.

"What does a wealthy man like Dawson, want me at this party?" Jack asked aloud to no one in particular.

"What was that, Jack?" Asked Sue the secretary, as she peeked in through the cracked open door.

Jack whipped his head toward Sue and stuttered out his response. "Oh, uh, n-nothing, Sue. Nothing at all." He waved her off, as she nodded and closed his door.

Looking over the invitation one final time, Jack placed it neatly on his desk, and went around it to stare out of his huge glass window. The view looked over the city of L.A., and he stood watching; drinking up the gorgeous scenery.

"Okay, Dawson. I'll show to this party. What else do I have to look forward too?" Jack whispered to himself.

...

Without looking both ways, Janet Wood ran onto oncoming traffic, in order to make it to her parked car on the other side of the street. A symphony of honking cars graced her ears, as she apologetically hurried towards her car.

Turning onto her street, she sighed deeply upon finding no parking, and having to circle her block for the third time. She finally settled on positioning it a street over, and jogging to her apartment in heels, desperately attempting - and failing - to avoid the oncoming pouring rain. She had forgotten her umbrella and rain jacket; again.

The sound of the pitter patter of her great danes paws, running up to her as she unlocked the front door, placed a smile on her attractive face.

"Hey, boy. Ah! Good to see you too, Humphrey," Janet squealed, as Humphrey leaped on her, causing Janet to slowly fall over onto the floor.

The large dog continued to lick her face lovingly, and rested his head on her chest. Janet breathed calmingly, careful not to ruin this beautiful moment. Janet always loved coming home to Humphrey. He always showered her with attention for the first ten minutes, then he would continue to aimlessly walk around the apartment, and snooze on the sofa.

Janet peeked at Humphrey, who stayed on top of Janet. "Okay, buddy. Time to get off of mommy, now, okay?"

Humphrey licked her cheek for a final time, and gently climbed off of Janet. "Good boy. You get a treat later,"

Janet heaved herself off of the floor, and walked into the kitchen. The stack of mail that she picked up before leaving for the flower shop awaited her on the counter.

"Okay, Humphrey, lets see what we got in the mail,"

She rummaged through mail, categorizing them into sections: bills, catalogs, coupons, junk mail, etc.

An unfamiliar colored envelope stuck out like a sore thumb, and naturally, Janet grabbed the envelope which only harbored her first and last name.

"Ooo, might be a live one, Humph," Janet said aloud.

Reading the invitation, Janet beamed. Twirling a lock of her shoulder length dark hair, Janet eyed her dog dreamily, who laid on the kitchen floor, looking back at her with dark eyes.

"Moms been invited to a dinner party! Isn't that exciting?"

Humphrey barked once, as if responding to what Janet said.

"Guess you'll be spending some time with Bob and Carol on Saturday, huh Humphrey?"

Humphrey barked again, wagging his tail.

Janet skipped to the cabinet, and took out a bag of treats. Humphrey got back up on all fours and wagged his tail uncontrollably.

"Here's that treat, bud." She tossed the treat into the air, and Humphrey caught it with his watering mouth. Janet watched as he chewed the treat, and went into another room.

"But why does a wealthy man want me at a dinner party?" Janet inquired aloud. "I'm certainly not rich, and certainly wont find anyone familiar there." She read the invitation over again, and looked over the piece with the address and directions on it.

"Free party though. Huh, why not? Sounds like fun."

...

More to come soon, stay tuned :D


	2. The Seventh and Final Guest

Chapter One.

After gazing at the extensive, elegant mansion, Janet stepped out of her vehicle and ventured up the steep pathway, toward the exquisite entrance. She allowed the aroma of fresh flowers to engulf her sense of smell, and pressed the doorbell delicately. The chiming of the bell sliced through the still silence of the mansion, alarming the guests of a visitor. Janet waited patiently, scanning the trimmed yard, which seemed to go on for miles. She smoothed out her blue, strapless cocktail dress that stopped just above her knees, when suddenly, the door whisked open, presenting a short, older man in a clean-cut suit and tie.

"You must be, Ms. Wood." The gentleman slightly bowed his head.

Janet smiled softly, and gently nodded her head. "Yes, and you are?"

"Ralph Furley, at your service. Most call me Mr. Furley, but you, my dear, may call me Ralphie." He winked at her playfully.

"Right. Mr. Furley," Janet said blatantly, "You were the one to send that invitational letter, correct?"

Mr. Furley stepped aside to allow Janet entrance. "Yes, ma'am. I'm the butler. I serve Mr. Dawson." Mr. Furley answered.

"And he's our host?" Janet questioned.

"Yes, Ms. Wood," Mr. Furley gestured to her rain coat, silently asking to take it from her. Janet allowed him to slide the coat off from her shoulders, and into his arms. He carried the coat, and placed it on a coat hanger, in the hall way closet. Janet stood, gazing around, awing the wonderfully decorated room.

"Right this way, Ms. Wood. The other guests are waiting." Mr. Furley said, guiding Janet towards another room.

"Waiting for me, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, you are the seventh and final guest."

Before Mr. Furley could turn the door knob, Janet stopped him. "I'm sorry, I guess I should've been here earlier. It's just that I have a very big dog, whom I love dearly, he's a sweet heart, and I had to wait for my neighbors, Bob and Carol to come home-"

"That's simply okay, Ms. Wood," Mr. Furley waved her off, "You're here now."

Janet nodded her head. "Okay, but please, call me Janet. Ms. Wood reminds me that I'm not married yet. Of course, that has plenty to do with how my parents treat-"

"Ahem, Okay, ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Furley announced, cutting Janet off. "Our seventh and final guest, Ms. Janet wood."

He stepped aside so Janet can come fully into the room. She glanced around, and smiled at all the unfamiliar faces.

"Ms. Wood hails from the southern part of Santa Monica, and apparently owns a large canine,"

Janet looked at Mr. Furley from the corner of her eyes, and swallowed hard.

Mr. Furley turned toward Janet, "If you need anything, please, ask someone else. I'm awfully busy." He said, nodding off, and swiftly turned out of the room.

Janet stared after him, then turned toward the other guests. They stared hard at their final visitor, and suddenly averted their attention somewhere else. Janet pursed her lips, and looked down at her high-heeled shoes, feeling slightly intimidated.

"Hi! I'm Chrissy. Chrissy Snow," A bubbly voice spoke, startling Janet. "And you're Janet Wood!"

Janet smirked at Chrissy, noticing her expensive looking attire. She wore a lovely peach colored evening gown, hair of gold in a adoring messy bun, neck filled with pearls, and wrists covered in shiny bracelets. "Oh, how'd you figured that out?" Janet sarcastically asked.

"Mr. Furley said your name was Janet Wood. It is Janet Wood, right? Because if not, then I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to label you or anything-"

Janet cleared her throat, and gently placed her hand on Chrissy's arm. "No, sweetie, I'm sorry, I was being rude. You're right, I am Janet Wood. Been so since the day I was born, haha." Janet smiled at her new acquaintance.

Chrissy stared at Janet for a few moments, then broke out into a huge goofy grin. "Oh, well that's okay. I wanna introduce you to everybody, I finally memorized all of their names. Come on, before I forget."

"That wouldn't be so surprising." Janet muttered under her breath.

The first to be introduced by Chrissy was an older couple. The husband, stood with a gloomy look, and spoke with annoyance. He wore a simple clean pressed suit and tie. His wife, seemed more lively, and much kinder. She looked beautiful in a beaded neck dress with a jacket.

"So very nice to meet you, dear," Mrs. Roper kindly remarked, shaking Janets hand. "Isn't that right, Stanley?"

A swift elbow to the ribs brought back Mr. Ropers attention. "Oh, yes, honey. Very nice to meet you, ah, Janice." He said, faking a smile.

"Uh, that's Janet, Mr. Roper." Janet corrected.

Mrs. Roper smacked his arm in embarrassment, staring daggers at him.

"The Ropers own five apartment buildings. Isn't that exciting?" Chrissy said, looking intently at Janet.

Janet stood silent, looking around the lounge room. She turned her attention back to Chrissy and realized what she just said. "Oh, yeah. Really exciting. You guys must be living very comfortably."

"Not as comfortably as you think, my dear." Mrs. Roper replied dryly, a comment meant about the lack of sexual contact her husband offers.

...

"Won't you get a load of that." Larry murmured near Jacks ear.

Jack glanced up from his drink and followed Larry's gaze. "Larry, come on. Is women all you think about?"

"No. Money also keeps me going." Larry slapped Jack on the back, letting out a yelp.

Larry strolled away, and smoothly made his way towards Janet and Chrissy.

"Hello, ladies. The names-"

"Larry Dallas, right?" Chrissy asked, cutting Larry off.

Larry cleared his throat, nodding his head. "Yeah, you're right little lady, and don't you forget it." He winked.

Chrissy rolled her eyes at him, snapping her attention back towards Janet once again.

"So, Janet, where are you from?"

"Speedway, Indiana, originally. Moved here years ago after college. And you?" Janet asked, feigning interest.

"Fresno. You sure are a long way from home." Chrissy said.

"I only live thirty minutes away." Janet replied, furrowing her brows.

"Ahem, ladies," Larry interrupted, "May I offer you lovely gals some drinks?"

Janet and Chrissy exchanged glances, clearly not interested in Larry's pick ups.

"None for me, but thanks anyways." Janet said, brushing Larry off.

"Same," Chrissy followed Janet on pursuit, "Let me introduce you to the doctor in the room."

Janet shrugged her shoulders, following Chrissy instead.

They casually walked up to an attractive tallish blonde, who wore a gorgeous black, knee high, halter dress. Her wavy hair flowed past her shoulders, and her black stilettos matched her dress perfectly.

"Hello! Terri Alden, right?"

Terri nodded her head.

"Great! Terri, this is Janet Wood. Janet, Terri Alden," Both girls exchanged smiles and shook hands. "Terri is a doctor!" Chrissy praised.

Terri slightly rolled her eyes, but still managed a smile. "Yes, yes I am. What do you two do?" Terri questioned, hoping to change the subject about her being a doctor.

"I'm just a housewife. My husband works with his father, who's a CEO in his own company." Chrissy bragged, holding her head high.

Janet and Terri exchanged looks, as Janet cleared her throat. "I work in a flower shop."

"You own your own flower business?" Chrissy asked, with admiration.

"No," Janet laughed, "I'm an employee. I'm a manager, actually."

Chrissy's face fell at the honesty of Janet's true profession. "Oh. Well, ahem, good to know women still have a place in the working field." Chrissy commented, looking elsewhere.

Janet shot Chrissy a look, surprised the blonde had the guts to say such a thing like that.

Terri looked from Chrissy to Janet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable between the tension.

"So..." Terri started, "Anybody know how long we're supposed to wait here?"

"Furley mentioned a few minutes after our last guest was too arrive." Larry answered, taking another sip of his drink.

The guests continued to socialize, as the rain poured down aggressively. The sounds of lightning can be heard every few minutes or so, creating more tension and anticipation. When the room grew silent, the door finally opened, revealing an older brunette woman, in a maids outfit.

"Hello all," she said, entering the lounge, "My name is Lana."

The men all did double takes, staring at the voluptuous older woman.

Lana giggle at the attention she received. "Keep your pants on gentlemen, I have a man back home."

The men grunted in unison, disappointed at the announcement made by Lana.

Lana carried a tray of drinks, offering more to the waiting guests. Her gaze suddenly stopes on Jack, noticing his handsome features. "Hello there, big fella. Why are you so alone in this corner?"

"Because being alone is what I do best." Jack said with a tight smile.

Lana continued to flirt with Jack, expecting interest, but is met with a cold shoulder instead. Janet watched as Lana struck out with Jack, and smiled too herself. She tapped Terri lightly on the arm, "Who's that?" She asked, not taking her eyes off of the mysterious bachelor.

Terri followed her gaze, and her features softened. "That's Jack Tripper. Son of a business owner. Don't quite know if he's a son of a bitch yet, but if he's a friend of Larry's, then he most likely is." Terri smirked.

Janet laughed at the statement, finding herself gravitating towards him anyways. Lana brushed against Janet roughly, sporting an aggravated look as she stomped away; obviously from being turned down by Jack.

"I don't believe we've met," Janet said, walking up to Jack confidently, "I'm-"

"Janet Wood," Jack finished for her, taking her hand and kissing it slowly.

The action took Janet's breath away, and left her temporarily speechless.

"I like to remember the important things." Jack stared longingly into her soft brown eyes.

Janet swallowed hard, and attempted to find her voice. "And you're Jack Tripper," Her voice hoarse. "Very nice too meet you."

Jack shot her a bright smile, and began to say something else, when the door to the lounge flung open just as lightening sliced through the dark sky, startling many of the guests.

In a booming voice, Mr. Furley announced, "Dinner is served."


	3. Seems Like Final Supper To Me

So sorry about the wai! But senior year of high school is hectic. Anyway, here's your next chapter! :)

Chapter Two.

The guests shuffled into the large dining area, quietly searching for their names among the long, mahogany dining table. On one side of the table, sat Mr. And Mrs. Roper, Terri Alden, and Larry Dallas. On the other side, sat Jack Tripper, Janet Wood, and Chrissy Snow. The seat next to Chrissy remained vacant. So did the seat at the head of the furnished table.

"Is that seat for our host?" Jack asked aloud.

"Yes, and the seat next to Mrs. Snow is reserved for his wife," Mr. Furley answered, moving towards the swinging door that led to the kitchen. "The guests are seated," he announced.

The swinging door to the kitchen swung open, and in came a cart filled with plates of food, being pushed by an older gentleman with a beard.

"This here is Mr. Angelino, and he is the chef of the household." Mr. Furley introduced.

"Evening, everyone. I hope you all enjoy your feast. Mr. Dawson is a fine man, consider yourselves lucky tonight," Mr. Angelino bowed.

Mr. Angelino pushed the cart, setting the plates on the table in front of all of the guests. He also served the seats that still remained empty. Everyone glanced at their plates in wonderment, as the food looked delicious.

"Well, go on," Mr. Angelino encouraged, "I would like to know your opinions."

Mr. Roper was the first to indulge himself in the potatoes and steak, followed by everyone else. The room grew silent, then suddenly, it filled with satisfied gasps, and moans. Mr. Angelino merely smiled, and returned to the kitchen, with Mr. Furley following close behind.

The room, once again silent, grew tense, as the guests surveyed their meal - and each other.

"Well," Chrissy began, "If no one else is going to break the ice, then I might as well,"

After lightly dabbing her face with a cloth napkin, Chrissy grinned. "I am originally from Fresno, my father's a minister, and my husbands father owns E.H. Wrights," Chrissy carried on her speech, while the others starred in amusement. "...So I don't know why exactly we are here, something about impressing Mr. Dawson, isn't that right? Oh, who knows, and who cares?However, I am determined to enjoy myself." She ended, glancing at her silent audience, who sat stunned and speechless.

Larry cleared his throat, indicating that he would kill the awkward silence, and further the forced conversation.

"Did you say your husbands father owns E.H. Wright?" Larry asked.

"That's right, he owns Wright," Chrissy nodded, while smiling.

"He owns Wright, on Write, right?" Larry inquired further.

"Yup, on Write, right across from rite aid, is that big old building; that's Wright. I work there too, sometimes."

The guests continued looking from Larry to Chrissy, clearly amused at the exchange between the two.

"Oh, well my wife must know your father then. She buys corporate art all the time." Larry informed.

"How lovely! And what do you do, Mr. Dallas?"

"Larry, please darling, Mr. Dallas sounds like I'm picking up my social security," Larry let out a slight yelp, satisfied with his own humor.

The other guests rolled their eyes sharply, ignoring the corny crack. Larry muttered under his breath, then turned to Janet, who sat quietly picking at her potatoes.

"Haven't I seen you before?" Larry asked Janet, completely brushing off Chrissy's earlier question.

Janet glanced up from her plate, surprised at the question directed toward her. "Well, yeah, you saw me back at the lounge," Janet blatantly answered, shrugging her shoulders.

The room erupted into quiet snorts, and hushed snickers. Larry looked less pleased.

"Harty Har Har, very funny. No seriously, somewhere here in Santa Monica,"

"Well, I live here in Santa Monica, so..." Janet trailed off, wondering why Larry pressed on. It seemed as though they all lived near by, so it would make sense that they all might've crossed paths at some point in time.

"I've certainly seen you Ms. Wood, but you may not have seen me," Terri suddenly stated, slowly cutting her steak.

Janet looked to Terri surprised again. "Oh, really? And where did you apparently see me?"

"At the hospital, where I work. You were there visiting someone, I suppose. You had brought flowers with you. I remember because you seemed dazed," Terri recalled. "You aimlessly paced back and forward, holding those tulips close to your chest like somebody was going to rob you. Your face appeared stricken." She observed, returning her gaze toward her meal.

Janet remained silent, shying away from the topic at hand.

"Stanley, why don't you slow down? You're eating your steak as if it's your last meal," Mrs. Roper suggested to her husband, who hunched over his plate, inhaling his meat and potatoes.

"I can't help it Helen," he said, "why can't you cook good food like this?"

Mrs. Roper rolled her eyes as if routined, and murmured a snarky reply.

"Sorry about him, everyone," Mrs. Roper apologized, "he's always been this way. Don't ask me how or why."

Terri and Chrissy giggled, as Mr. Roper turned to his wife with an annoyed glare.

"Where are you two from?" Terri asked, genuinely curious of the older couple.

"California, all our lives," Mrs. Roper replied, "I'm specifically from San Diego."

"San Diego? So am I," Jack suddenly revealed.

A wide smile found its way onto Mrs. Roper face. "Really? How convenient. I've always loved San Diego, but my father hated it. That's why we moved to Los Angeles. My father loved it! And I loved it too, because that's where I also met Stanley." She turned a flirtatious look towards Mr. Roper, who merely paid mind only to his meal.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Los Angeles. Trash city, if you ask me." Mr. Roper said matter-a-factly.

Mrs. Roper, once again, sported her irritated glare, and looked to Jack again, "So, Jack, is it?"

Jack politely nodded.

"Jack, what do you do, my dear?" Mrs. Roper inquired.

Jack cleared his throat before answering, "My father is a businessman himself, you see, he owns the Tripper Bistro's franchise,"

"Wowie! Susan and I dine there all the time," Larry said, impressed, cutting Jack off.

"Yes, so do Peter and I," Chrissy grinned.

"Stanley and I drive by those Bistros all the time, but not once stopping in for dinner," Mrs. Roper complained, rolling her eyes.

"Don't you two own five apartment buildings? I'm sure you can afford a place like Tripper's Bistro," Terri pointed out.

"Who says we couldn't afford it? I'm just saying Stanley never takes me out to eat; he hardly even notices when I try to cook in the house!"

The guests all averted their knowing glances elsewhere, as the room grew silent once more.

"Did you say you worked at a hospital, Terri?" asked Jack, killing the silence.

Terri sipped her wine, and gave a nod, "Yes, I'm a doctor. I work in Wilshire Memorial."

"Hey, that's right. You're Terri Alden, the world famous Orthopedic surgeon! You operated on Burt Reynolds, didn't you?!" Larry queried, suddenly excited.

Everyone gasped at the question, turning to Terri in admiration.

Terri, a bit overwhelmed, calmed the numerous questions directed at her. "Hey! Listen!" She yelled, surprising the guests, and herself, "Yes, I am an Orthopedic surgeon. No, I don't think it's fair to say I'm 'world famous.'" Terri paused, looking from one anticipated guest to another, " And yes, I did operate on Burt Reynolds-" The room filled with loud comments, and cheers, "But he was put to sleep the whole time."

After the conversation dwindled down to nothing, Terri found the opportunity to call out on Larry.

"Larry, I recall Chrissy asking you an earlier question about what you do," Terri started, "So, what is it that you do?"

Larry took a few moments to collect himself, then began to answer, "Well, I used to own a car dealership, however, I've sold it to another salesman. I now reside at home, with my beautiful wife, Susan."

"Does Susan work?" said Chrissy, pressing the matter.

"Yes she does. But her work is private - I shouldn't really mention it." Larry admitted, indicating that he would no longer speak on the issue.

Instead, he turned to Janet.

"So what about you, Janet?"

Janet glanced around the table, suddenly feeling ashamed of her situation. She felt inadequate, and out of place, now that she's heard how successful and wealthy her peers were.

"Ahem, well," she began, "I do, unfortunately, feel just a tad intimidated by you all. You see, you are all living well off, and I only work in a flower shop. I live in a one bedroom apartment with my dog, and this is the fanciest I've ever dressed up." Janet revealed, sadly smiling awkwardly to herself, and the others.

For what seems like the tenth time, the room was silent. The rest of the guests continued to eat their dinner quietly, keeping to themselves. Janet glanced at Jack, who offered her a small smile. A small smile was returned.

Before the room can get any more quieter, the kitchen door swung open.

"Well, you do know you're aloud to talk, right?" Mr. Furley joked, stepping further into the dinning room. "Mr. Angelino has also prepared dessert, if anyone cared for any."

Suddenly, Larry slams his hand on the table in annoyance. "Damn it, Furley, where is our host, and why have we been brought here?" He urged.

The other guests followed in pursuit, all simultaneously demanding answers. Mr. Furley finally calmed down the guests, and proclaimed that everything will be explained once their host were to arrive.

Just then, the door to the dinning room flew open, revealing a dashing man, in a black suit and tie. His hair and eyes brown, the debonair, confidently stepped into the room, with a young attractive woman on his arm.

Mr. Furley smiled, as he announced the couple their entrance.

"Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Phillip Dawson, and his lovely wife, Mrs. Vicky Bradford-Dawson."


	4. The People VS Phillip Dawson

Better late than never...here's your next chapter!

Chapter Three: The People VS. Phillip Dawson.

"Ah, it is so good to see you all here in my home!" Phillip remarked joyfully, leading himself and his wife toward their respective seats at the dining table.

The guests all watched their host intently, anticipating his next moves, Janet watching most of all. After a beat of silence, Larry once again grew impatient and agitated.

"Okay, he's here," Larry pointed out the obvious, "now why are _we _here?"

Phillip nervously cleared his throat and shot a perplexed glance toward his butler.

Mr. Furley returned a brief reassured look and silenced the symphony of whispers that partook in the short period of time.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Furley began, "all of this simply cannot take place over dessert,"

The guests all shifted their gazes from the slender man to their completely empty plates, bare of any desserts. Mr. Furley gave an awkward nervous chuckle before beginning again.

"Anywho, let us all travel to the lounge where the intentions of this evening will be thoroughly explained."

Everyone exchanged glances before curtly nodding their heads in agreement.

Silently, all bodies collected themselves and proceeded to the lounge just down the hall from the dining room. Mr. Angelino nodded his head in farewell to all guests and slipped through the swinging door of the kitchen. Lana followed after him.

After settling in the lounge, Mr. Furley stood before the guests.

"Now, if we all refer back to your invitations that were sent to you all, it states that you are all here in regards to making a certain impression on Mr. Dawson, here," Mr. Furley gestures to the strapping young man to the right of him, who held a protective hand on the waist of his wife. "Unfortunately the impressions are not all positive..."

The atmosphere of the room suddenly became tense. Mr. Roper was the first to speak.

"Excuse us?"

Mrs. Roper grabbed a hold of her husbands arm. "Oh, Stanley," she gasped, "what does he mean by that?"

Janet and Terri looked to one another in confusion, while Chrissy furrowed her brows in worriment.

Jack and Larry shared the same look, and turned to Mr. Dawson.

"What's your butler talking about?"

"I'm not sure...Ralph, what's this about?"

Mr. Furley rocked on his heels uneasily, and swallowed a lump. "Well, you see..." Mr. Furley began, before being interrupted by Phillip's halting gesture.

"Now, Ralph, what 'impressions'?" He inquired genuinely.

"Yeah, what's the big idea, bud?" Larry chimed in from across the room. All of the men of the room erupted into questioning shouts for answers from the lithe butler, who seemed to quake in his shoes.

"Will you imbeciles pipe down so the man can explain?!" Shouted an irritated Janet.

The men reluctantly complied, while the women starred with mouths agape at the petite brunette, impressed with her dominating stature.

Janet noticed the stares and shrugged her slender shoulders. "Growing up as the eldest sibling sometimes has its perks..."

"Okay, listen," Mr. Furley changed tactics and soon adopted a more demanding demeanor. "You're all being blackmailed!"

Chrissy jolted from her seat, accidentally knocking over Jack, who had been perched on the arm of the sofa right next to Chrissy.

"What?!" She exclaimed, failing to notice Jack sprawled on the floor, grumbling a string of curses under his breath.

"My goodness, by whom?" Mrs. Roper asked in a confused tone, her hand clutching her chest in disbelief.

"Who do you think, Helen? By this shmuck!" Mr. Roper pointed a shaking finger to Phillip, eyes narrowed and mouth turned in a snarl.

The guests shifted their gazes toward Phillip and Vicky, who stood just as confused as the others.

"Now," Phillip began in a nervous tone, "wait just a minute, I'm not blackmailing anybody!" He assured the others, putting up his hands in defense. Vicky locked her hands around Phillips bicep, and gave off a petrified expression.

"Phillip...what are they talking about?" She inquired softly, genuinely confused and frightened.

"Answer your honey, son," Mr. Roper declared authoritatively.

Phillip looked to his wife alarmingly, then turning back to the rest of the room. The silent atmosphere was only being disrupted by the cackling of the fire in the fireplace, emitting pleasurable warmth, but the room was anything but.

"Listen to me, you've all got to believe me, I have no idea what Ralph is talking about."

Jack finally lifted himself off of the floor and staggered toward the butler.

"Then why don't _you_ tell us, Mr. Furley?" He asked in an icy tone.

"Don't look at me," Mr. Furley's eyes bugged out, "your blackmailers right over there." He gestured back over to the Dawsons'.

Again, all gazes landed on them.

"Well, it's not me!" Phillip yelled.

Everyones eyes went back to Mr. Furley.

"Neither I!" He also asserted.

Heads began turning between the two, causing Mr. Roper to wince in pain due to whiplash.

"Okay, okay! Enough of this! What is going on?" Mr. Roper demanded, once and for all.

Larry chimed in before anybody else had the chance. "Don't you see? This guy's blackmailing us for our fortunes! We're all pretty wealthy, well, except for-"

All heads turned to Janet who's immediate expression dissolved into an apprehensive frown. (**You know that face she does, in _Janet's Little Helper_? Yeah, that one.**)

"So it makes sense. You want all of our money!" Larry finished with a nod.

"And how's he suppose to manage that? It's not like we're just gonna give it to him." Terri said matter-a-factly.

"Well, that's what blackmailing's for!" Chrissy offered, a grin suggesting that she was proud to make a valid point.

"Yeah, but what's he got on us, huh?" Jack pointed out, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa again.

"I'm not going to stand here and listen to you baboons accuse me of such disgrace," Phillip said, "I was told we would be having a nice dinner party. I'm leaving to the restroom."

Phillip started for the door, but was quickly blocked off by Mr. Roper and Larry.

"Not so fast, hot stuff," Larry stated, arms crossed and a glare fixed on him.

"Why, this is ludicrous! I demand to be let out this instant!" Phillip half yelled, face growing angrier by the second.

"Not until you start telling us the truth." Terri said, getting up from the chair she sat in for the majority of the exchange.

"Yeah!" Chrissy nodded and agreed wholeheartedly.

"Come on guys, let the guy breathe," Janet also shot up from her seat and attempted to block the others from Phillip. "Let's not get carried away here." She tried to reason.

An argument amongst all of the guests soon broke out; half of them yelling to break Phillips legs in order to get answers, while the other half, (mostly just Janet and Mrs. Roper) yelled to give Phillip a chance to explain in a more calmer environment. Vicky, whom had been mainly silent throughout the ordeal, shouted at the top of her lungs in order to get everybody's attention.

"Please! This is insanity!"

The commotion died down, and soon everyone was staring at the brunette.

"Mrs. Dawson's right, you guys," Janet said in a softer tone, "that's enough of this."

"Thank you!" Phillip remarked to Janet, "may I please go to the restroom now?"

The men grumbled a bit, but slowly removed themselves from in front of the door to let Phillip pass by.

"Janet," Jack began, "why are you being soft on the guy? He's trying to get our money!"

"Because, if I were him, I'd want you all to give me a chance to explain." She responded confidently. There was obviously no changing her tactics on the matter, so the others decided to let the brunette handle this debacle. Janet turned to Vicky, and placed a hand on her forearm soothingly.

"Mrs. Dawson-"

"Vicky, please. Just...Vicky." She insisted sheepishly.

Janet smiled and nodded in understanding.

"Vicky," there was a pause. "Do you have any idea what's going on with this whole 'blackmailing' deal?" Janet asked, hoping she had an answer to this fiasco.

Vicky shook her head with a frown.

"I don't, I'm sorry." Vicky answered softly, her eyes downcast to avoid everyone's worried gazes. Janet offered Vicky a sympathetic smile, and rubbed her hand in attempts to comfort the disturbed woman.

Larry marched right up to Mr. Furley, fists clenched and eyes trained on him.

"Okay, butler," he snarled, "_you_ tell us what's going on, and no dancing around the subject, either."

Mr. Furley shook violently in his place, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Alright, alright! I'll tell you all everything!"

This got everyone's attention again.

"Please, control yourselves, and have your seats again,"

The whole room complied, and took their seats.

Mr. Furley managed a few deep breaths to calm him down, then continued to explain the situation.

The guests all listened intently.


End file.
